The Mothmen hover after making their proclamation.
It's on the tip of my tongue to say that they're lying, because unlike the battle against Marduk, no armies have gathered to clash on this piece of ground. The lawn looks fresh and green, although needing weeding and trimming. No blood speckles the grass, and no body parts litter the scene. I reach down and touch the grass, feeling its cleanness and softness. The air smells and tastes electricity-charged, like a storm is gathering. All around me is silent.
"This is a war?" I question the Mothmen. "Doesn't look like it. I would have expected something more war zone-like."
"This is just the beginning," the Mothmen reply.
Daji frowns. "So, the building shaking was like the opening salvo?"
"Just so," the Mothmen reply. "The Wendigo has become the battlefield."
"Because the Wendigo refused to hand me over," Lamashtu notes ... and she sounds regretful.
"Not necessarily," the Mothmen reply.
